


Let Me Come Along

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alien Biology, Aliens, Comfort, F/M, Forehead Kisses, Friendship/Love, Gen, Music, Questions, Unresolved Sexual Tension, canonish, carving, mirroring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 09:18:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2576213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet that begins just after the new Sneak Peek for 02x07.  Skye is talking to Coulson after she discovers him carving late in the night. Very short.</p>
<p>Title taken from The Pretenders song "I'll Stand By You".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Come Along

“That's the reason May didn't want me to leave you alone, isn't it?” she said, pausing for a moment.  “Because you’re losing control.”  
  
“I don't know what I'll become,” he answered, voice a little shaken.  “Garrett was…violent, rambling...he tossed me across the room like I was a toy.”

Skye’s eyes got wide for a second.  It was all connected, of course.

“May said...those dead men, my father's _sheer_ strength...,” she began.  
  
“You _are not_ like your father,” he replied immediately.  
  
“And neither are you.”  
  
He looked at her, pleading. “You can understand, then, why I don't want you to see me this way.”

She closes her eyes for a moment, uncrosses her arms.

“It hurts, doesn't it?” she says, breathing in, as she reaches to touch his face.   
  
“ _Yes_.”

He’s watching her carefully.  She can see he’s holding back emotion, but it’s a mixture of things.  Of what entirely, she’s not sure.

“Pieces of a puzzle,” she starts.  “How deeply _are_   we connected?”

She is full of questions tonight and he looks even more unsettled for a moment, not sure where she is going with this.

“If this was already in me, like you say...,” she continues, trying to spell it out.

“It was just a theory,” he says quietly, shaking his head, putting his hand over hers against his face and gently grasping to move it away.  
  
“Before you injected me,” she goes on. “Maybe, even then…we were drawn to each other.”

He’s sweaty and his insides are on fire, and he doesn’t really want to get into that right now.

“I'd like to think that was based more on my charm and good looks,” he says, managing the joke.  
  
She smiles slightly at the reminder of his charm. “What if ‘it’ drew us together?”  
  
“Like a homing beacon?” he asks extra innocently, with a swallow.

That’s not what she’s getting at, but she’s not going to press it in his current state.

“Simmons might have some other ideas,” she says, her eyes flickering away from him.  “We should talk to her about it.”

“I don’t think…,” he starts.  He doesn’t want anyone else to know.

“You need answers, sir. In the meantime, I'll stay with you,” she says, moving back towards the record player. “You can finish here. Then, maybe get some rest? Before it starts again.”

He nods.

“If you stay,” he says, while walking past her, to go around to his desk.  Then he stops, opening a drawer, he takes out a gun, places it on the desktop.

 She’s taken aback.  “What? _No_.”  
  
“Skye, I can't become that thing... that monster. If I ever hurt you...” 

She gives him a very stubborn look.  “Assuming I’m any less dangerous, of course.  In fact,” she said, “I might be the only one who can handle you.” 

“We don’t know that,” he says, eyes flickering up to her.  Part of him selfishly wants to believe that’s true. 

“I will do whatever else you ask,” she says, walking towards him and putting her hand over his.  “Just don't ask me to do that, Coulson. We’ll find another way.”  
  
“If I don't make it, I need you here, helping May. Helping SHIELD continue.”   

He’s not sure how much time he’ll have left to say these things.  He wasn’t sure how to say these things before, even, but the moment has forced it upon him.  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” she agrees. “And with you in it.” 

He’d rather have this than carve more.  Just her standing here with him, their hands touching.  Her resolve that he can be fixed. Her hope and her eyes. 

“It” won’t let him. 

He frowns and looks down, glancing up at her slowly before he walks back towards the toolbox. 

Picking up the box cutter, he begins to fidget with the button, trying to get the blade loose, the frustration building again. 

“Let me help,” she says, hand appearing at his wrist.  Feather light and gentle, never demanding. She never is. 

He lets go and her hands are before him fitting the new blade and placing it back into his own.   

Their fingers linger there for a moment, touching.  He lets himself look at her, the determination there.  More than that, even.  She’s not letting go.  Or giving up. 

“Thank you,” he says, leaning forward and pressing his lips to her forehead. 

She hesitates for just a moment. He feels her hand rest against his chest. 

Then he turns and lets it take over again. 

The raucous jazz starts up in the background, and it is as it was before. 

Only now, he knows she is with him.


End file.
